


Condemned To Walk The Soil Amongst All Creatures Wild And Tame

by cl0wnf11sh



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Earth C (Homestuck), Gen, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Touch-Starved, Vague Worldbuilding, this is canon now hussie is my bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 22:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14318412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl0wnf11sh/pseuds/cl0wnf11sh
Summary: I start to sweat, I can't cool downI'm scared of all the strangers in this townI try to tell you just why I've comeIt's like I've got molasses on my tongueI made it through town somehowBut who's gonna save me now?I'm out of my elementI can't breathe





	Condemned To Walk The Soil Amongst All Creatures Wild And Tame

Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you have never felt quite this dehydrated before in your short, violent life. 

This planet is strange. It’s nothing like Alternia. You’ve been here for several days, ever since SBURB pulled you from the popping bubbles of the afterlife with the rest of your dead companions like some sort of cruel joke. The nights here are cold, and the days are warm, but they don’t burn your skin like the Alternian sun did. You still feel burnt, too-warm and sweaty and thirsty, and you can’t find any damn clean water anywhere. Not without money. 

You have no more sway then a regular troll here, that’s another thing that’s different. Violetbloods are still rarer, but less so, and appear to be in the same social class as all the other trolls and humans. Occasionally people give you second looks, but they all decide that you couldn’t possibly be Him. Everyone knows that Aquarius, Faith-Death, the Angelkiller- he’s one of the dead gods, not one of the ones that you can see on the street if you’re lucky. Some just show their heritage more then others, they all think. 

You have never gone quite this long without using your gills. They itch and burn under your sweater and scarf, which you haven’t removed despite the heat, and city dust keeps getting caught in the delicate folds of your fins, irritating them to hell. But you’re nearly there, and then, hopefully, this will be over. If not- well. Your thinkpan refuses to figure out what you’ll do then. 

It’s a small relief to step into the apartment building and feel cool air on your skin. You manage to remember the apartment number you saw and press the button inside the elevator with fumbling, nervous fingers, riding it to the sixth floor and walking down the hallway. You knock, once, and- god, why are you this nervous? You’re in a cold sweat as you hear footsteps approach the door, click the lock open- has to be the wrong apartment, you should just leave, just leave right now- 

And then there he is. 

Karkat Vantas, who appears to be taller then you for the first time since you met, stares at you with a bewildered expression on his face. You stare at each other in silence for what feels like an hour before he clears his throat and speaks in a gravely voice you haven’t heard for sweeps. “Eridan. People have been looking for you.” 

You try to open your mouth and explain yourself, but it’s like you’re frozen. His expression is still impassive, and his piercing red eyes seem to pin you in place, but then he sees your gills and winces in sympathy. Shuffling backwards a little to make room, he gestures inside with his chin, gruffly clearing his throat. “You should drink some water or something, man. Ablution’s back there.” The familiarity of his speech makes your throat close up again, but it’s still stilted and awkward, like he’s not sure how to deal with the problem that’s just appeared on his doorstep. You’d be surprised if he did. 

A moment of hesitation later, you wordlessly shuffle in, only giving the apartment a cursory glance before forcing your eyes in front of you and letting yourself into the small bathroom. You’re moving on autopilot as you turn both faucets to warm and splash your face over and over, letting the warm water drip down your neck. You drink until you can’t drink anymore, even though your mouth still feels dry, before finally clawing off your sweater, letting the steam-filled air soothe your sore thoracic gills. You want to cry- why, you’re not actually sure, and that’s somehow the scariest part of this whole fucked-up situation. 

Five minutes later, you pull it back on with a wince and turn the faucets off. You have to face him. Karkat’s waiting in the kitchen, and he turns before you can speak, staring at you with an conflicted expression before taking a deep breath. You tense, expecting harsh words, maybe even a strike (He did say he’d kill you the next time he saw you, didn’t he? Most of your game plan here was hoping he’d kill you and end it permanently, if you’re being honest with yourself) but when he sees the way you brace for impact he looks.. sick, almost. 

And he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t do anything. You want something to happen, anything but this weighty silence, and your breath starts to wheeze in panic through your irritated gills before his eyes widen and he nervously extends a hand. 

“Hey, hey, Eridan, calm down. I’m not gonna fucking hurt you, alright? Please just.. take a deep breath.” 

You take a deep breath. His hand lands on your shoulder, and you feel faint. 

This is the first real skin-to-skin contact you’ve had in.. you don’t know. Before you died. People touched you on rare occasions in the bubbles, but they were all cold, dead and pulseless. His living palm against your shoulder is warm, and you lean into the slight touch, your words getting stuck in your throat for what feels like the hundredth time. Karkat’s breath catches, and he looks almost resigned for a moment before he pulls you closer, hugging you securely to his chest. You just start sobbing before you can say anything, and he rests his chin between your horns, patting your back gently. “Hey, come on, idiot. You’re safe. I’m gonna set you up on the couch with a sopor patch, you need some fucking rest.” 

You just give a minute nod. He didn’t say you could stay, not yet, but the feeling of relief that rushes over you is so strong that you think you would fall if it wasn’t for Karkat holding you up. 

Maybe, just maybe, it’ll be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, someone I know does a monthly Erikar fanwork challenge, so I decided to participate because I always love an opportunity to churn out more stuff about My Boys. This month was songs, and this fic was pretty heavily based on How To Embrace A Swamp Creature by The Mountain Goats, which is what the title and beginning lyrics are from. Hope you like it!


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